


(Love it when you) Bleed for Me

by casey_sms (shinygreenwords), shinygreenwords



Category: The Social Network
Genre: Bloodplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Knifeplay, M/M, Minor Violence, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Painplay, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:52:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/casey_sms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/shinygreenwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The first time it happened was at Harvard.</i>
</p>

<p>For a <a href="http://mark-eduardo.livejournal.com/368440.html?thread=2752056#t2752056">prompt</a> at the <a href="http://mark-eduardo.livejournal.com/"><b>mark_eduardo</b></a> <a href="http://mark-eduardo.livejournal.com/368440.html">prompt fest</a>: Blood kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Love it when you) Bleed for Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accrues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accrues/gifts).



> **Warning/kinks:** Sexual tension, minor violence, graphic kinky sex which includes blood!kink, bloodplay, knifeplay, painplay, orgasm denial, over-stimulation.
> 
> Reposted with beta. The prompt also wanted "Mark gets a cut on his finger. It hurts. Eduardo sucks on it." That is in the first part and then I ran with it since it was the tsn-a-thon. The knifeplay is for [](kissingcrimeprofile)[**kissingcrime**](kissingcrime). A billion thanks to [](princewardoprofile)[**princewardo**](princewardo) for her help and encouragement - she doesn't 'just' help me write a better storry, she makes me feel that way  <3 She's totally badass and without her I wouldn't have bothered with this repost. For the [winter tsn-a-thon](http://tsn-a-thon2.tumblr.com/): Team Parker.

i.

The first time it happened was at Harvard.

“Fuck!” Mark says, shaking his hand, stinging from the sharp edge of the tuna can. He brings the finger closer to his face, watching the blood well into a fat ruby bead.

“Are you alright?” Eduardo says from behind him. He says it like he’s breathing into Mark’s ear instead of where he is, sitting on the edge of Mark’s bed.

“Fucking tuna can,” Mark says as he makes to wipe his finger on his t-shirt.

“Don’t,” Eduardo says, and before Mark can ask what he means, he’s in Mark’s space, taking Mark’s finger in his hands and putting it in his mouth.

Eduardo is sucking lightly. It stings a little. It’s warm and it tickles and Mark can’t help but smile. Eduardo always makes him feel better.

Eduardo looks up at Mark through lowered lashes and takes Mark’s finger up to his knuckle, tongue swirling around his digit like it’s a-

_cock._

Mark has seen some gay porn because, well, he lives with three other guys. When you live with Dustin, who goes through everyone’s porn, and Chris, whose collection of gay porn once broke his hard drive (which Mark had to fix because although it may be contrary to popular belief, there are reasons his friends stick around) - yeah. It’s inevitable that he’s seen some gay porn. And right now Eduardo looks like he could be a gay porn star. Not in a cheap way, but in the best way – the sexy, unattainable target that you didn’t know you wanted until you, well, wanted.

“Um,” Mark says eloquently as Eduardo pulls Mark’s finger out of his mouth, warm hands wrapped around his wrist. It makes an obscene wet popping sound and Mark is pretty sure his semi is now a hard on. It’s not like his friends give him boners all the time, it’s just that he’s a teenage guy and Chris’s boyfriend of the week is loud (sex noises are sex noises like a mouth is a mouth), and he has been surrounded by Dustin’s porn and most irritating of all, Erica is studying non stop (even though she doesn’t need to. _It’s BU_.). Of course he’s sexually frustrated. And Eduardo is unbelievably attractive. Mark isn’t blind. He’s seen the way his own _girlfriend_ looks at Eduardo.

Eduardo’s lips are wet and perfectly bow shaped as he blows on Mark’s finger. Mark can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, as gracefully as ever.

“There,” Eduardo says defiantly, even though his cheeks are tinged with pink.

 

ii.

“War-Eduardo,” Mark says, taken aback. Years of habit rush back in the moment he opens his door. It shouldn’t feel so easy. “What can I do for you?” He opens the door wider.

“I want you to be sorry for what you did,” Eduardo demands, not making a move to come in. “You set me up. You wanted me out and you didn’t have the balls to tell me. Instead you had some bullshit contract drawn up so you could dilute me out of your company like I wasn’t your best friend. Like I didn’t even mean anything to you.”

Mark stares at Eduardo. He can’t quite believe that Eduardo is here, standing at his doorstep. He guesses that in some part of his mind, he never thought he would see Eduardo again. Not like this – just the two of them, separated by only a doormat. He thought he might encounter Eduardo again perhaps in passing, in shareholder meetings, or an awkward public event. Maybe see his name on the masthead now and then. They don’t even have a masthead anymore, it’s just a tab on a page. Such a small thing in the grand scheme of it all.

“Say something! Don’t you have anything to say?”

“You came out,” Mark says. “To California.”

Eduardo makes a noise of frustration. “Did you listen to anything I said at all?”

“Did you?” Mark asks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“The first time you came to Palo Alto, when we were still setting up the company with the interns-”

“And Sean was throwing parties,” Eduardo interrupts bitterly. “How could I forget?”

“Yes, he was,” Mark admits, “but _listen_. Please.” Wardo doesn’t remember the important part. For a long time, Mark told himself he didn’t feel anything when really, he was disappointed. He’d wanted Wardo to notice. He still wants him to notice. “I asked you to stay. I told you I needed you.”

“And?” Eduardo says, just like Mark always says it and the echoed intonation stings but it doesn’t make Mark’s words any less true.

“That’s what I wanted to say to you,” Mark says.

“So you wanted to say that you were right,” Eduardo says. “God, you never change.”

“You were the one who asked to be friends with me,” Mark points out.

“You sure made me regret it,” Eduardo says with a hollow laugh.

“I don’t. I don’t regret any of it,” Mark says bravely, straightening up. He doesn’t regret it. He did everything he could. He still feels that if Eduardo had been paying attention, then it wouldn’t have happened. That might not be fair (according to Chris), or nice (according to Dustin), but that’s the way he feels. At first it came off as arrogance and insensitivity when he couldn’t find the words for it, but it isn’t fair or nice to make him feel bad about the way he feels either. Maybe Chris and Dustin will never really get it, but at least they don’t harangue him about it anymore. For Mark, it was a decision made, one amongst a million others at this point. Why obsess over the one choice when there are a billion more to make?

He doesn’t want to be mean and he doesn’t want to hurt Eduardo. If he were out to do that, he would say “I’m not sorry”. Instead he says, “I wish you were still my friend.”

Eduardo grimaces, moving back like he’s flinching away from Mark’s words.

“Mark,” Eduardo says in a low voice. “You were a dick to me. I was in love with you and you didn’t even _notice_ and-”

Mark barely sees it, the blur that comes faster than he can blink. The burst of pain on his left cheek is tangible enough. It didn’t even occur to him to duck. Mark’s hands fly automatically to his face as the pain radiates outward and he pokes at his cheek, dabs at his lip. There’s a smear on his fingertips and he can taste blood. He’s more amazed than hurt.

“You hit me,” Mark says, stating the obvious.

“I’m not sorry, either.” Then Eduardo is grabbing Mark by the face, thumbs brushing his cheekbone where his knuckles dug in seconds before, and he’s crushing his lips against Mark’s. He’s licking at the corner of Mark’s lip, sucking on it with swelling force. Mark opens for Eduardo, walking backwards so he can close the door with them both on the right side.

  
iii.  
  
“Wardo hasn’t had sex with me since our make up sex marathon,” Mark complains, putting down his game controller.  
  
“TMI, TMI,” Chris moans. “Can’t we just play?”  
  
Dustin drops his controller too. “I need a drink, anyone else need another?”  
  
Chris and Mark both nod.  
  
“Be right back,” Dustin says, scurrying over to the mini-bar. “Right.” He’s cracking open another can of beer.  
  
“You are such a liar, Mark,” Chris accuses, pointing with the neck of his bottle. “I walked in on you blowing Wardo on Monday morning.” His cheeks are flushed.  
  
“That doesn’t count,” Mark insists. “That’s not sex sex. That’s like...” he wriggles his fingers ominously in a gesture halfway between ghostly and air-caterpillars.  
  
“You need to tell him you’ve been a bad boy and then get him to spank you until you cry. You’ll feel better and he’ll feel better and it’ll restore the balance,” Dustin says, pretending to stroke an imaginary beard. “Plus, I think we all know Wardo has a not-so-secret violent streak.”  
  
“What?” Mark says, fiddling with the cap of his beer. “Wardo isn’t violent,” Mark says, jumping to Wardo’s defense. “What the fuck.”  
  
Dustin gives Chris a look because _of course_ that’s the part Mark focuses on. Dustin mentally prepares himself like a person does when they’re about to jump out of a plane. “Look, Mark, I know you think you did the right thing and I’m not even going to go there,” Dustin says, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But face it, you humiliated him and you hurt his feelings. Just try to look at it from his shiny patent leather Prada shoes. There’s some bad blood. Get him to punish you and give you a cuddle after and then things will be good. Are you scared of a bit of pain?” Dustin lowers his voice, “Are you worried that crying will make you less of a man?” He raises an eyebrow. “This is the twenty-first century.”  
  
“Who the hell have you been dating?” Chris says, staring at Dustin.  
  
“I don’t know if ‘a bit’ of pain is enough to make me cry,” Mark says, completely serious. “Besides, he hurt my feelings too, so do I get to spank him till he cries afterwards, or will I still be too busy crying? Additionally, can you clarify whether I’ll be crying because you’re projecting your kinks onto my sex life, crying because the physical pain is overwhelming and causing a physiological reaction, or crying just as a product of your rather clichéd idea of an emotional release?”  
  
“Too many words, Mark. Just bend over and take it!” Dustin says, lifting his beer in a salute.  
  
“What Dustin means is that you need to do something to reestablish his trust in you, which will reaffirm your trust in him,” Chris says, ever the expert in translating Dustin, apparently over the revelation that Dustin considers a good paddling to be more beneficial than couples therapy . “A relationship goes two ways. You’ve hurt him so you need to show him that you’re vulnerable too, that he can hurt you.”  
  
“So I need to let him spank me?” Mark asks. “That’s easy.”  
  
Dustin whoops. “See? Who’s the genius? Who’s the youngest billionaire in the world now? Yeah, that’s right. It’s me!” He runs off to do a tipsy victory lap around the house. “I’m Dustin Motherfucking Moskovitz!”  
  
Chris glares at Dustin’s back, definitely not interested in the way his shirt rides up as he windmills his arms around. He tears his eyes away, face flushing when he realizes Mark is looking at him, blue eyes studying him intensely. “Um. Not exactly. I mean, it could work. If that’s his thing, or if that’s your thing. But it’s not the only thing.”  
  
“Can you suggest a list of alternate ‘things’?” Mark says, furrowing his brow.  
  
“That’s like asking ‘how long is a piece of string’. I don’t know what Eduardo is into. You should know what kinky shit he’s into,” Chris says, shrugging. “Some people like roleplaying, others like bondage, or combining them in slave play. Or even knives and blood play. You should probably actually ask Eduardo.” Chris takes a swig of his bottle, and mumbles something about Christy and how he’s always wondered whether Eduardo is into playing with fire.  
  
“That’s… perfect,” Mark says, eyes glinting a little.  
  
Chris shakes his head and doesn’t even bother to ask Mark what he means. Mark’s already busy typing god knows what into his computer. He already knows way too much about Mark and Eduardo’s sex life for someone who is not sexually involved with either of them. “Right,” Chris says, knowing his words are probably not piercing whatever kinky scene that Mark is planning in his head. “Have fun and don’t end up on the news dead and naked, thanks.” Dammit, he thinks, if that happens he’s going to have to resurrect Mark and Eduardo just to kill them both again. Ugh. His life is so hard around Mark and it’s not even the sexy kind of hard.  
  
*  
  
“Can you-” Mark begins, uncharacteristically self-conscious and all too aware of the possible awkwardness if Eduardo refuses. “Can you fuck me?”  
  
It turns out maybe Mark just had to ask.  
  
Eduardo is kissing Mark, leaning heavily on him, pinning him down with his body. His pants are still on and Mark doesn’t care, just grabs at his clothed ass. Eduardo removes his hand from Mark’s dick to push his pants down his thighs.  
  
Mark squirms in impatience, canting his hips so Eduardo is rubbing against his erection. “Wait,” Mark says.  
  
Eduardo sucks Mark’s collarbone, “Don’t worry, I have one in my pocket.” Eduardo extricates the foil packet from his pants and presses it in Mark’s hand.  
  
Mark moans and struggles to find his words as Eduardo moves to suck at his nipple, licking it and then blowing on it. He crushes the tiny square in his fist. “No, I want- I have something for you.”  
  
“Where is it?” Eduardo asks. “Is it here?” he says, kissing where he can feel Mark’s heart beating.  
  
Eduardo moves leisurely to his other nipple, feeling Mark shudder and arch against him. “Something for me here?” Eduardo smirks. Then he trails kisses down Mark’s chest. “Could it be this?” Eduardo says, deliberately not touching Mark’s dick, rolling Mark’s balls in his hand so that Mark can’t see straight for a moment.  
  
“Uh,” Mark says, scrambling for his thoughts. “Something better,” he gasps out, slapping the condom on top of the bedside table.  
  
Before Eduardo can tease him any more, Mark reaches to pull out the knife he’s prepared and stashed in his top drawer along with the lube. It’s a straight razor encased in a sleek black handle. There are patterns etched on the handle of the blade but Mark doesn’t really care. He asked for the best. The carbon steel blade itself is very fine, with a cutting surface of about two and a half inches and the blade itself no more than a finger’s width. The handle is cold and slippery in Mark’s slightly clammy hand. Mark flips it opens and passes it to Eduardo, handle-first.  
  
Eduardo’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the fine weapon, gleaming, sharp and deliciously dangerous.  
  
“Mark,” he says in whispered awe. “Are you…sure about this?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mark says with more bravado than he feels.  
  
“Um. What’s your safe word?” Eduardo asks.  
  
Mark gives Eduardo with a casual half-shrug. “I trust you.” Then he knocks the condom off the bedside table. “Oops.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Eduardo asks again. “I can-”  
  
“Do this,” Mark finishes for him decisively. Then he lies back down on the bed, smirking up at Eduardo.  
  
Eduardo looks at the blade thoughtfully before he says, quietly commanding, “Hold onto the headboard and keep your hands there.”  
  
Eduardo teases Mark with the knife, chasing the cold away with kisses for a few minutes until Mark is aching with arousal, arching up and sighing in frustration when Eduardo pulls the blade away from his skin.  
  
“Are you going to rub the knife all over me like it has a boner or are you actually going to do this?” Mark says snappishly.  
  
“You want me to cut you?”  
  
“What do you think the razor is for? Shaving my legs?” Mark rolls his eyes. “That’s not my thing. You like blood.”  
  
“Oh my god, can we not talk about it?” Eduardo says in one rush of breath, voice squeaking at the end. He sounds mortified, as if he’d been hoping Mark hadn’t noticed.  
  
“And I like you.” Mark talks over him easily. “Different strokes, different blokes. I looked it up, it’s not really my kink, but I could probably get into it. Blood doesn’t turn me on,” Mark explains. “But it doesn’t bother me much either. Same with pain.” Mark takes his hands off the headboard, sits up and holds his hand out for the knife.  
  
“It’ll-”  
  
“Hurt? Scar? Bleed?” Mark says, annoyed. He hates it when people treat him like a child, like he didn’t get an SAT of 1600. “I know what I’m getting into, okay. I’m not in any danger unless you try to cut an artery or stab me, which I don’t need to ask you not to do, seeing as you’re not stupid. Try it like this. You need to press firmly for something more than a paper cut to actually get it to bleed.”  
  
Purposefully, he makes three cuts at the top of his thigh. Three evenly-spaced lines of red, deep enough for them to scar. He smears them with a finger and puts it into his mouth, watching Eduardo’s pupils dilate even more. Eduardo reaches for Mark and Mark slaps his hand away. “I’m almost done,” Mark says, drawing a two vertical lines along the right side to join the three lines together, then adding three little cuts along the ends of the original lines before he squeezes the edges of the cuts so they continue to ooze.  
  
Mark can see the moment when Eduardo realizes he’s now sporting a large stylized serif ‘E’ on his leg. His breath hitches and for a moment it doesn’t seem like he’s breathing at all.  
  
When Eduardo looks up at Mark, amazed, Mark merely smirks.  
  
He hands the knife back to Eduardo. “It’s yours,” he says, deliberately keeping it vague.  
  
The ‘E’ is now smearing blood onto the sheets and Eduardo says, “Oh shit,” pulling his pants off then going through his pockets for a handkerchief. He dabs at Mark’s cuts. “It’s clean,” he says unnecessarily, like Mark is worried about catching cooties.  
  
Then he lays the cloth down carefully. He peers up at Mark and quickly - as if afraid Mark might stop him - he puts his mouth on Mark’s cuts, licking and sucking. When he blows on them, Mark shivers.  
  
Mark can see his erection straining at his briefs but Eduardo doesn’t seem to know what to do so Mark holds Eduardo’s hand, the one with the knife in it and pulls it towards himself, guiding Eduardo. Meeting Eduardo’s eyes, Mark lets the corner of his lip curl up into a smile as he aiming the knife down the hollow of his breastbone, tracing down the divot until he pushes the point of the blade in so it makes a long, shallow cut down his chest. When he can feel Eduardo’s hand moving with his, Mark lets go. Raising his hands, Mark holds onto the headboard, glancing at Eduardo expectantly.  
  
Eduardo examines the cut with his eyes like it is the most amazing thing he’s ever done, and then he traces it with his tongue too. Eduardo makes a twin set of sticky cuts on Mark’s stomach, actual cuts that ooze and Eduardo smears the blood, inhaling its coppery scent, coating his fingers with it and then leaving rusty prints on Mark’s skin.  
  
“Please,” Mark whines. His own cock is now hard and leaking.  
  
“Please what?” Eduardo says as he digs his blunt nails into a cut until Mark bucks and moans. He wipes his finger on Mark’s unmarked thigh and then lets his hand hover near Mark’s erection, deliberately reopening one of the cuts on Mark’s leg.  
  
“Touch me. Want you, please.”  
  
Eduardo pops his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean and savoring the metallic taste. He runs his damp fingers along the length of Mark’s cock, collecting the precum at the tip, rolling his fingers in it and shushing him as Mark arches desperately, making little noises as he spreads his legs apart.  
  
Eduardo makes tiny scratches on Mark’s ribs and holds the knife to Mark’s neck, an inch above his collarbone, as he reaches down to finger him so that when Mark writhes as he crooks his fingers, he’s pressing against the blade, nicking himself slightly. It’s so close to the source of his life blood and Mark is baring it to him, for him.  
  
“More,” Mark whines, his pupils fully blown.  
  
Eduardo scissors his fingers, so Mark cuts himself again, a red rivulet trickling down to stain the edge of the pillowcase. Eduardo is impossibly hard, his cock aching for attention. He gives himself one stroke before he squeezes it. He does the same for Mark.  
  
“N-need you,” Mark says like it hurts to get the words out.  
  
“Me too,” Eduardo admits, putting the knife down to straddle Mark.  
  
Mark lets go of the headboard and crosses his arms behind Eduardo, hissing at the movement, the cuts on his stomach stinging.  
  
Eduardo pushes into Mark slowly, watching his face intently. It feels different this time, more intimate, raw, and Eduardo doesn’t want to mess it up. Mark’s eyes are squeezed shut and he is clenching his teeth.  
  
“Don’t stop,” Mark pants.  
  
Eduardo is fully seated inside Mark, there’s blood drying between them and he is wearing Eduardo’s marks. He’s inside Mark, nothing between them and Mark is _his_ entirely. He has to close his eyes for a second to focus on not coming there and then.  
  
Mark whines, pushing at Eduardo to move. Eduardo obliges. Mark eyes glitter suddenly and he rakes his blunt nails down Eduardo’s lower back, making Eduardo cry out in surprise. Eduardo slams into him, mouth latching onto the cut on his neck, sucking relentlessly, alternating hard pulls and gentle licks, matching the wet rhythm of his pumping inside Mark. It’s amazing. He can feel Mark’s pulse beneath his lips. He sucks a hickey right over Mark’s carotid artery as he curls his fist around Mark’s cock. It’s a little dry but he swipes his thumb across the slit, using the precome to lubricate the slide as he jacks Mark’s dick, once, twice and then-  
  
“I’m gonna-” Mark sobs, thighs trembling around Eduardo’s waist. Eduardo can feel him swallowing loudly as he comes, hips jerking and clenching hard around his cock. Eduardo fucks him through it, relishing the noises Mark makes, the broken words spilling out of him. The only thing that is constant is “Wardo, Wardo, Wardo”, his head tipped back, exposing his pale neck, marked with Eduardo’s mouth and further down - hairline cuts from the kiss of the knife. Mark’s mouth has fallen open, lips bitten red and Eduardo cannot resist capturing those lips with his own. It doesn’t take long for him to climax, emptying his hot seed into Mark, his vision whiting out for a moment.  
  
Eduardo tucks his face in the space above Mark’s shoulder as he waits to come down from his orgasm. And then he lies there just because he likes the feeling of Mark under him, pliant and warm, the feeling of being inside him. He wants to be inside Mark all the time.  
  
Eventually, Mark paws at his shoulder.  
  
“You’re heavy,” Mark mumbles, protesting weakly, one heel drumming at Eduardo’s ass.  
  
Eduardo laughs as Mark flails, pinned under him. Eduardo extricates himself from Mark gently before rolling off to the side. Catching his unmarked thigh with one hand, he holds him open with a smirks and rubs at Mark’s hole. The come is dribbling out of him. Very deliberately he pushes his fingers in. Mark keens, still sensitive from his recent orgasm, his legs falling shut as he twists, but Eduardo is holding him down, scissoring his fingers slowly, too slowly.  
  
“Wardo, please,” Mark says.  
  
Eduardo takes pity on him and starts fucking him with his fingers until Mark’s eyes are rolling back into his head. Eduardo mouths at Mark’s balls, nuzzling at the curls there, before using his free hand to guide the head of his dick in his mouth and then swallowing down his length, coaxing Mark to full hardness again. Eduardo bobs up and down, hollowing his cheeks and tonguing the underside of Mark’s cock just the way he likes it. With a well-timed flick of his wrist, Eduardo takes him further, nosing at Mark’s pubic hair, breathing in his musky scent. Eduardo closes his eyes for a moment and focuses on Mark’s cock, the way it tastes, slightly salty, and the feel of him heavy on his tongue. Mark moans, tugging at Eduardo’s hair, barely able to suppress his hips as they buck up, making Eduardo pull back a little, not wanting to gag.  
  
Eduardo splays his hand on Mark’s hip, smiles once as he locks eyes with Mark, lips still stretched around Mark’s cock. Then he relaxes his throat, letting Mark fuck his face in earnest. He can feel Mark’s dick bumping the back of his throat and it feels good, full, while his scalp tingles with the force of Mark’s fingers, tangled as if he is tied to him.  
  
“Wardo, I,” Mark murmurs, his voice wrecked and hoarse. “I’m close, you’re making me, so close, I….” he trails off, his hands holding Eduardo’s head, ready to pull him off.  
  
Eduardo meets Mark’s eyes, deep blue and half-lidded and he shakes his head as much as he can within the prison of Mark’s hands, sucking eagerly. He allows himself to be pulled back only to take Mark down again and again until he’s coming hard and fast down Eduardo’s throat, in his mouth. Eduardo breathes and swallows it all until Mark’s length is softening in his mouth. He makes sure to keep his teeth covered as he lets the head of Mark’s cock fall gently out before blowing on Mark’s still sensitive member. Mark shivers and pats helplessly at Eduardo’s face, fingers touching lips his dick has just rubbed red. He hauls Eduardo upwards for a searing kiss.  
  
“Can you come on me?” Mark says against the corner of Eduardo’s mouth. “Come on my stomach,” he says, his hands already finding Eduardo’s erection and working at it. He pushes Eduardo back so he’s propped up on his elbows. Mark sits up to get a better angle and then he’s jerking Eduardo off. Eduardo watches as he bites his lip, studies the way his brows knit together as Mark focuses all his attention to the task at hand.  
  
“Kneel,” Mark instructs, without slowing his pace.  
  
“What?” Eduardo says, distracted by Mark’s skilled hand on his dick.  
  
“Kneel over me,” Mark says as he slides his other hand to the base of Eduardo’s cockand rolls his balls in his palm before letting go. He scoots back a little, lying down as Eduardo kneels up, his hand joining Mark’s and then he’s coming, painting Mark’s stomach and chest with white stripes. His dick is still twitching as he sees his come mix with the dried blood.  
  
Mark hisses and groans. “Fuck,” he says, still gasping. “That stings like a bitch.” He snags the corner of the sheets and wipes the worst of the pink gunk away from his stomach with a grimace.  
  
Eduardo stares at him, eyes huge. “I need to clean this-clean you up,” Eduardo says, scrambling to the side, reaching for Mark in an aborted movement as if he’s worried he’ll hurt him by just touching him. “Oh-”  
  
“Stop. Don’t say you’re sorry, and don’t freak out,” Mark says, rolling his eyes. “Come here. I wanted it and now I want this. It just hurt more than I thought it would.” He waves his hand. “At the end.”  
  
“Are you okay?” Eduardo asks. “Sor-can I ask you that?”  
  
Mark snorts. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. We’re trying something new. Together,” he says abruptly. “We’re going to need to find out what works best.” Then cocking his head to the side. “Was that good?”  
  
Eduardo fumbles. He really should stop being surprised at Mark cutting the bullshit. “Yes,” he says, ducking his head.  
  
Mark gives him a jerky nod. He’s reaching inside his top drawer again, at the back, where he has a new packet of antibacterial wipes, a tube of numbing cream and some multipurpose bandages. Mark is ripping the packet open, shaking the wipe out with one hand.  
  
“Do you want some help with that?” Eduardo says awkwardly as he watches Mark close his eyes and wipe at his neck and chest with the wipe.  
  
Mark blinks, and studies Eduardo for a long moment. “Okay,” he says, handing the wipe over. “Don’t use these on your dick. It burns.”  
  
Eduardo has to cough because he wants to laugh.  
  
Eduardo cleans Mark up as gently as he can. He goes for a new wipe before looking at Mark’s stomach.  
  
“Wardo,” Mark says, drawing Eduardo’s eyes up. “Do you trust me?”  
  
“Yes.” And it’s simple, easy.  
  
“Good.”  
  
Mark bites his lip as Eduardo cleans him up tenderly, almost moaning when he gets to use the numbing cream on his cuts. They repeat the process with the improvised tattoo on Mark’s thigh. It looks better when it’s clean. Eduardo bandages over the deeper parts but Mark isn’t bothered by it.  
  
“I’m really okay,” Mark says.  
  
“Okay,” Eduardo says agreeably. “I’m just going to get a cloth.”  
  
By the time he’s back, Mark is lounging on what looks like clean sheets.  
  
“Did you just change the sheets?” Eduardo says, impressed.  
  
“No, I just flipped them over and turned it around.” At Eduardo’s incredulous look, Mark says, “I’ve had practice in making it look like I’ve done the laundry.”  
  
“Right,” Eduardo says, smile faltering slightly. Gross, he can’t help thinking even though he gives Mark a fond glance. He joins Mark anyway, kissing the top of his head before spooning him from behind. He puts a careful hand on his Mark’s hip, well clear of the bandage on his thigh. “I think we should get some new sheets tomorrow. Dark colors. Black ones maybe, so it doesn’t look like one of us has their period or killed someone in the bed.”  
  
“We don’t need to get new sheets,” Mark mumbles sleepily, leaning against Eduardo, eyes fluttering shut. He misses the grin that splits Eduardo’s face when he hears the word ‘we’ coming from Mark. “We live in the twenty-first century, Wardo. We can order them online. You can get everything there.”  
  
“Not everything,” Eduardo says softly, watching Mark drift off.  
  
  
  
Bonus scene 1:  
  
“I love you,” Eduardo pants, collapsing next to Mark. “I love you so much.”  
  
“It doesn’t count after sex, Wardo,” Mark says to the ceiling  
  
“I bet it counts after bloodplay,” Eduardo says sulkily.  
  
“I’m not even going to start on how disgustingly cheesy your blood brothers idea was,” Mark says snarkily. “Not to mention the undertones of faux incest we will have every single time we fuck afterwards.”  
  
“But you’re going to let me do it right?” Eduardo asks, propping himself up on one elbow.  
  
“No,” Mark says, closing his eyes.  
  
Eduardo looks at Mark.  
  
“That tragic face is not going to work on me,” Mark says.  
  
Eduardo keeps looking at Mark, seeing his eyelids stir. One eye opens and then shuts quickly.  
  
“…maybe.”  
  
Eduardo kisses Mark on the forehead. “I love you,” he says happily. “And you love me. It totally counts.”  
  
  
  
Bonus scene 2:  
  
Eduardo is a little stressed. He knows he’s pretty good at cooking but he doesn’t usually cook for this many people. Most of his dishes have been pre-made and are being lovingly reheated by Mark, under his watchful eye. His cufflinks are abandoned on the side of the counter and his sleeves are rolled up but he thinks he’s gotten some dressing on the edge of his sleeve anyway.  
  
“Puta que pariu,” Eduardo says under his breath.  
  
“Relax, Wardo. I know cooking isn’t my thing but you’re right here, so nothing will go wrong,” Mark says flatly as if he’s repeating a mantra. He’s not even being sarcastic. Plus, he has experience now in doing things that are Wardo’s ‘thing’ and nothing has fucked up so badly yet that they can’t fix it. “Seriously, even if you don’t have the perfect dressing for your fancy salad, Chris and Dustin are not going to call off their engagement.”  
  
“Mark!” Eduardo admonishes, tapping his hand on the chopping board before spinning around to glare at Mark. His curls have somehow managed to escape from the chef’s hat Eduardo put on him. “Touch wood!”  
  
“I’m not even going to start on your superstitious mumbo jumbo,” Mark says with a seasoned sigh. He takes off his oven mitt, “Do you really want me to do that?”  
  
Eduardo’s eyes dart to the guests outside. “Mark! We’re- we’re in the kitchen! That’s unsanitary,” he says, aghast.  
  
Mark laughs. “ _You_ being worried about being unsanitary? There is so much that we do that is unsanitary-”  
  
Eduardo kisses him quickly so he doesn’t start listing everything right then and there.  
  
“Let me help you,” Mark breathes, slipping a hand under Eduardo’s apron.  
  
Eduardo shies away. “No, no, no. We have guests, Mark. People. Right there. They’re here for Chris and Dustin’s engagement party, remember?”  
  
“I don’t care,” Mark says grumpily, but he goes to wash his hands without being asked.  
  
Eduardo hands him a knife. “Here, dice these tomatoes for the bruschetta.”  
  
Mark takes the knife off Eduardo and cuts the tomatoes into neat halves, adding them to the bowl. When he’s done, he calls Eduardo over.  
  
“These are great, thank you, Mark.” Eduardo takes the bowl out of his hands, kissing him on the cheek before taking a spoon to sprinkle the tomatoes over the bread. “Can you cut some more for the salad?”  
  
“Already on it,” Mark says.  
  
“I love you,” Eduardo says feelingly.  
  
“You’re going to make it up to me,” Mark says. As always he takes to his task with the utmost concentration, his movements almost mechanical.  
  
Dustin pokes his head in the kitchen, “Mark, Wardo! What’s taking you guys so long?”  
  
Eduardo waves a spoon at Dustin. “Hey, it takes time to make a masterpiece.”  
  
“Do I want to know what’s in the salad dressing?” Dustin says, waggling his eyebrows while he curls his fist, jacking it up and down in front of him.  
  
Chris shoves Dustin, punching him in the shoulder. “Don’t be rude, Dustin. What he means is thank you guys for letting us use your place, and especially you, Eduardo, for having the food covered.”  
  
Dustin moves a safe distance away from Chris before coughing, “With jizz!”  
  
“Dustin,” Chris says, half menacing, half a promise.  
  
“You love it!” Dustin says as Chris chases him outside.  
  
Eduardo looks over at Mark, who is still chopping his tomatoes obediently. He comes up behind Mark, putting his arms around his slim waist. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”  
  
“Wardo, I’m busy right now,” Mark says distractedly, his hands moving almost automatically.  
  
Without even looking, Eduardo buries his face in Mark’s neck. “We don’t need any more tomatoes.”  
  
“The recipe says-”  
  
“I know,” Eduardo interrupts gently. “Just. This is nice. I’m really happy for Chris and Dustin. I’m really happy we’re here.”  
  
Mark scrapes the tomatoes off the board into the salad bowl then he puts his knife down with a soft clatter, spinning around in Eduardo’s embrace.  
  
Eduardo can’t help but grin at Mark. He reaches down for Mark’s hand, “Let’s go.”  
  
“Mark, your hand!” Eduardo says, noticing the blood on Mark’s finger. It’s a neat incision, right on the pad of his index finger.  
  
Mark looks straight at Eduardo as he puts the tip of his finger to his lip, smearing a tiny bit of blood there. “Oops.”


End file.
